Working Class Hero
by Masked-Writer-In-Disguise
Summary: Life stars as a child, then its a teen, then its an adult, then its old and it dies. Nothing really exciting ever happens to the average human being. This is a walk through the life of a young blond man. AU.


_**Masked-Writer-In-Disguise: **__Hello, people. This is just some random little piece that I came up with while reading prompts for Lit. The drabble thing is Naruto-centric, if y'all needed a hint and the foreign exchange student is Gaara, but yeah. Here it is, something random._

_Yes, I know I should be working on __Stumble__, but I needed to write something short and simple and not very romantic or smutty, so here it is. Enjoy._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own Naruto. I just write about various situations I see the characters in. It's more fun that way; if I owned them, I might get annoyed with people asking if they can steal so-n-so._

_**Inspiration:**__ Below are 3 sets of words. Use in each to write a mini story in 300 words each SET or less. SET 1: paper clips, principle, swing, girl with a pink ribbon. SET 2: biology, class card(playing card), foreign student, leaf, blood sample. SET 3: typewriter, filing cabinet, puncher, clerk, carbon paper. _

_**Word Count: **__900 without the title, little dividers, and the Author's Note._

&~o~o~o~o~o~o~&

_Working Class Hero_

_By: Masked-Writer-In-Disguise_

The little boy with blond hair sat quietly by the jungle gym watching the other children in his class play with each other. He was kinda the outcast, even if they were in kindergarten. There was always the cool kid and the outcast and the future prom queen. The little boy was the outcast, his raven haired classmate was the cool kid that everybody wanted to be and the girl with the lighter blonde hair was going to be their prom queen. the blonde continued to sit off to the side, out of their way, and he didn't let how badly being left out hurt him show; he just went through his abnormally hard kindergarten life with a big smile on his face.

A few children came running up to him and he ducked his head, looking to the paper clip he was playing with that he had found on the floor. The other children didn't notice him. They just went on playing their little game of make pretend and left the little blond boy all by himself. He wasn't worth noticing, anyway.

The principle came outside to talk to his teacher, but the blond really didn't care. He just stood up and wandered over to an empty swing; he rarely got to swing because the other kids always hogged them, especially the girl with the pink ribbon in her hair. She and her friends were always the worst when it came to picking on him and asserting their superiority. He sat down and looked around, absently kicking at the ground with his legs.

The wind ruffled his hair and the sun kissed his already tan cheeks.

The teacher's whistle blew and the kids stood up and filed into a semi-orderly line. It was time to go inside for now.

&~o~o~o~o~o~o~&

The blond boy sat in biology class, just like he would be every other Tuesday, according to his schedule, twirling the single playing card he'd found at the bottom of his beat up back pack. He was in high school now and life hadn't changed much since kindergarten. He was still the outcast, but this time he had a couple friends. They made it a habit to pick on him on a regular basis, but he knew it was all in good fun; he did the same to them.

The teacher came in and demanded order as he introduced this year's foreign exchange student. The student gave his name and a brief introduction and then made his way over to the only available seat; the one next to the blond. The blonde introduced himself to the redhead and there were brief smiles exchanged, and class began.

The teacher passed out the class syllabi. They were starting with photosynthesis and the function of the leaf. There were chloroplasts and thylakoids and granum and, so on and so forth. In a week, they'd be working on cellular reproduction. Next month, they'd be doing a lab that would require blood samples and microscopes. The week after that experiment, they'd be covering basic human chemistry, respiratory system, cell organelles, the brain, etc, etc, etc. basically this was a biology class and they'd be studying life.

The blond looked up at the teacher as he finished with the basic learning plan and started to lay down classroom and lab rules. The teen had heard it all before. He'd been in several of this man's science classes and he didn't need to be told again. Class flew by, it was a double period, and soon the bell rang and the students stood as one and left.

&~o~o~o~o~o~o~&

The blond boy was now a man and he was at work, a traditional office job of kissing ass and bending over backwards to make to boss happy because he needed this job to feed him. He was just an average clerk, and, as usual, that really didn't mean anything to the big boss man. Everything in his life was exactly the same; just different faces and names. The blond man turned from the filing cabinet, the needed files in hand, and picked up the three ring hole puncher before setting the files in the 'out' box.

The man then turned to the 'in' box, pulling out today's order and reading it over before taking it to the type writer. Why didn't they have computers again? The man sighed and began his work. The clacking of the keyboard was all he could hear; clack, clack, clack, clack, clickity clack, clack, clack, zwwssshhh, and so on and so forth. The paper came off and he looked it over before typing two more copies and filing one away for future reference and keeping the other so he could know his assignment.

The blond looked in his drawers and pulled out a box of carbon paper; the man down the aisle needed some and he had more, two more boxes, than enough. He got up and handed it to the man and headed to the break room so he could grab a cup of coffee before heading back to the small cubicle that had the nerve to call itself his office. Like he'd ever get an office; he wasn't all that important. He never would be all that important. All he was meant to be was some middle class lackey for the big guys; nothing more, nothing less. Even if he wanted more.


End file.
